Two Cups of Coffee
by Novoux
Summary: There are two cups of coffee on Sinbad's desk that do not belong, according to Judal. Sinju


Two cups of coffee sit on Sinbad's desk, an instance Judal finds as peculiar as no one usually comes into the stupid king's office and why anyone _would_ is beyond him and ignoring the fact that he happens to be defying his own logic is a daily thing. Weekly, whatever it is when the random occurrences start happening like Judal managing to find himself bored, looking for entertainment outside of the stiff and sticky air of the Kou Empire. They're all so boring it's hard to pretend he's interested in ignoring his duties. He can extemporize on any number of duties that fall in the category of utmost importance, usually shirking them off nonetheless as the Kou Empire is anything but entertaining.

So finding himself in Sinbad's office early in the afternoon with two cups of coffee on the side of the desk is a normal thing. But the moron talks and pretends to ignore him when Judal finally has something to do, like ranting and annoying the king into paying attention to him. Although from what he finds in the more recent visits, nothing seems to get through to him—odd, because Judal is the only one who can irritate him into spilling many ink pots onto the floor. Hilarious, sadly only happening one time and it happens to become the last time Judal is ever allowed near ink pots. Ridiculous, really, because Judal does not see the appeal that paperwork and sighing melodramatically has over him. The idiot should be at least grateful of his presence, though he prefers not the sniveling type of stupidity where the servants of the Kou Empire tend to stray and worsen his mood. Sinbad's brand of stupidity, not uncommon and certainly useless, is far more entertaining. Especially when he tries to act smarter than that, though Judal fancies he knows more than the idiot would ever care to understand.

The two cups of coffee, however, remain indifferent. No amount of staring, urges to push them off the desk, or hanging upside-down waiting for an idiot to arrive make them any more satisfying. They just sit there, warm with the steam rising above the dark brown liquid and Judal has known from a terrible, unspoken of mistake where accidentally drinking from one of these is a horrible thing to do. Namely because of the immediate bitterness, the disgusting fact that even though it smells sweet it's _not_ and that is the biggest lie ever to exist. All that bitter shit shouldn't even exist and yet here it is, mocking him with its steaming tendrils and an empty office. Worst of all, it even smells sweet.

(It's all lies in this kingdom, but to succumb to poisoning drinks? Disgusting.)

Judal hums to himself, irritation kicking in as he stares at the two cups, more of a challenge to figure out why Sinbad's office has _two_ of them when he and the idiot know that Judal hates coffee. With a burning, fiery passion—more icy cold and worth frosting off the tips of Sinbad's hair when he suggests Judal should drink it to _man up_ and Judal decides Sinbad could learn how to _shut up._ It's not his fault nor will it be for having an actual sense of taste while Sinbad drinks the disgusting brown liquid and says it's good for him, like all the other stupid stunts close to sitting in an office all day ignoring Judal is good for him. Because that makes sense only to an idiot as stupid as Sinbad, so whatever works for him. The whole act of ignoring Judal never lasts for long—who could ignore Judal of all people for so long? _No one—_ and Sinbad who is actually somewhat important (in what way Judal refuses to discuss) and therefore technically the only one it really matters that he pays attention.

But there are two cups of coffee. Steaming hot, meaning they're fresh and Judal has only been here for a couple minutes and there is no idiot of a king to be seen. No meaning behind why there are two cups instead of one for the only idiot around here unless if Freckles comes in here to drink with him—stupid, because this is _his_ time and he has the right and the only right to take from Sinbad. Freckles can go be prissy somewhere else, since when Sinbad's working in the late afternoon to the sun setting Freckles doesn't normally come in unless if knocking on the door. What's even better is when he comes by and the idiot is doing something productive for once, like keeping quiet when he kisses hard and rough because Judal prides himself on being a tease. It's funny to watch him scramble to make sure the door doesn't open, one hand slapped over Judal's mouth (annoying as it is it's worth the look of horror on the moron's face) saying he's _fine_ when he looks otherwise.

It's so much fun to mess up the king. Make him take a break from his stupid work that's not what a king should be doing, and then rough him up a little bit. Maybe tease, flirt, do whatever it takes and Judal has a way with words and a _fantastic_ imagination to accomplish his objectives of making the king hard, making him want it, and then disappearing as soon as that door opens or Judal decides he's bored. Sometimes he'll reward the idiot, appearing in his bedroom more or less in silks that may or may not be his own. Sinbad doesn't seem to mind, not when one look is all it takes to have him on his knees. Judal thinks the position is more than fitting for an idiot not fit to be a king.

Freckles doesn't drink coffee, Judal thinks and it's a bit of a stretch, but he's never seen him drink it. Anyone sane enough wouldn't drink the disgusting stuff, but then again Sindria is no place to measure sanity when it doesn't exist. No one else comes into Sinbad's office, unless if it's the baby Magi and or one of his friends. Rarely is it the other guard, the freak with red hair who doesn't talk all that much. And judging by the looks he gets from the freak, he's pretty sure that Sinbad hasn't been doing a good job of covering up their relations in his little office. Which is hilarious, because Sinbad cares quite a bit about his reputation and if word was to get out, it would be something to mock him more for.

All until the tables turn— _then_ it wouldn't be so funny. As much unwanted attention he gets from stupid servants and others that are complete wastes of rukh and air, he'd rather not deal with another meeting from Kouen telling him to try not to foul the relationship between the Kou Empire and Sindria. En says he has to _behave_ when he goes out, because he's not about to go to war with Sindria when the possibility of allies, although rocky now, is at stake. Judal only scoffs and laughs whenever he's done listening to the lectures (if anything he's improving relations, maybe not his own) and ironically finds himself back in Sindria. It's not his fault Kou is so boring.

Judal flips himself upward, hanging upside-down for too long causing a bit of a headache and the burn in his cheeks he hasn't noticed until now. The question remains with the coffee cooling and Judal could freeze it if he wants to. He really could and probably should for the sake of sparing himself coffee-flavored kisses that taste utterly horrible and can only be made up with plenty of apologies, with his lips but with no stupid words and preferably occupied with something else. And now as his feet touch the floor he realizes it's been more than a couple minutes since his arrival and why there is no one here starts to irk him a little more. More than usual today, all at the fault of the damn coffee cups that have no place in being in this office and smelling sweet with a hint of spice, something Judal doesn't care for even if it's cinnamon.

What if the stupid king didn't bring these here? No, no; no one else comes in here when it's after dinner and the sun is starting to set. Late afternoon really is more of evening, but since the sun is up and has some time before it sets then Judal doesn't care what time it is. As long as he uses his time for a good reason and not for waiting around on an idiot to show up. But as time continues to bleed into the setting sun he starts feeling more than just impatient and possibly murderous going by the fact he hasn't stopped staring at the coffee cups. It's almost like they're there just to piss him off, untouched and left for him because Sinbad thinks he can play pranks on him like it's nothing and then gets mad whenever Judal decides to have a little fun. Outside of kisses that are stolen and getting out of Sinbad's hold nothing can be considered teasing or just having fun. Sinbad always gets mad, grumpy, or just acts unamused until Judal offers something he can bite onto—which does have the path winding down onto marking Judal's neck when Judal doesn't care to bore himself waiting for the idiot to make up his mind.

Two cups of coffee. Left unattended, and frankly Judal doesn't care if the cups survive this encounter of irritating him along with the absence of Sinbad. Intentional or not, there's no point in caring all that much because it's not his kingdom, he doesn't give a shit about the coffee cups, and the damn king is conveniently missing out on the kind of entertainment the Magi has to offer. Judal sneers to himself because _of course_ Sinbad is gone, he's too much of an idiot even if Judal must pity him or something to still be here and wait oh so patiently for him to get his priorities straight. Just because Judal doesn't care for responsibilities doesn't mean he's trying to be a bad example, as Sinbad accuses him, but rather he simply doesn't care. Sinbad's a big boy, more obvious when Judal gets him into the bedroom and those stupid robes come off—he can very well make his own decisions.

This is boring. Stupid, since there's no reason to be here if Sinbad isn't. All this kingdom is good for is stealing from the stupid vendors and somehow the stupid king always finds out and blames it on _him_ when maybe it's not always him. How would he know? Not like he cares much about anything else unless if he has the brilliant idea of paying attention to Judal like he should. He's the one who wanted more than just casual sex, something that's equal parts frustrating as it is a confusing mix of everything. When Judal feels emotions, they come out explosively.

Hence the hesitance that comes and the hesitance now—no, no. That's not what he should be thinking, because it's not anything that should be known and much less about him. A lack of confidence is stupid, like the king of Sindria and the fact he's mad at two coffee cups and has now found himself in the king's stupid chair.

Unbeknownst to Judal, the door to the office clicks open during his inner tantrum that results in a few haphazard accusatory mumblings, something the king of Sindria finds unusual only that they relate to stupid kings (which probably means him, as always) and something about being bored. Judging by the fact Judal is sitting in his chair, an odd sight, the Magi has probably been waiting on him. And the fact perhaps shouldn't make him smile, but it does as he closes the door behind him and locks it, not wanting a repeat of an almost accident not that long ago with a highly suspicious Ja'far. Judal still doesn't see him, uncharacteristic of his energetic personality and staring blankly at the two coffee cups, almost frustrated with the furrow of his brow betraying his emotions.

"What took you so long, idiot?" Judal suddenly snaps, immediately pulling his attention away from the coffee cups and finding that today he's more impatient—probably from dealing with idiots all day, not wanting to be anywhere near them but he just _has_ to have work to do. The idiot king has yet another cup in his hand and Judal may as well consider it treason, not that such a term would apply harshly to him but since his status is unknown then there need not be any fuss. However, Judal can feel his blood starting to seethe with a resounding hiss caught between his teeth. "Could you have taken any longer? Or were you waiting for someone else?" He can't help himself, not usually when his anger starts to gain its footing and comes out when the idiot doesn't even respond—much less the way he should.

"Judal, what are you talking about?" The hot cup Sinbad carefully holds on to starts to burn his fingertips as he sets it down on his desk, relieved at not having to carry it anymore. From the irritation evident in the Magi's angry tone he can't say with any confidence he knows of why Judal is angry, at him if anyone and glowering at two cups of coffee left on his desk minutes ago. Usually when Judal waits for him he's not this angry, so there shouldn't be any reason to take it out on cups of coffee that sit innocently on his desk next to what appears to be his suspiciously messy paperwork. Huh, it was perfectly ordered before he left. "And what do you mean waiting for someone else? The only person I have been expecting this evening is you."

Honest words only make him angrier—raging a battle between himself and tearing papers to shreds because Sinbad doesn't—slamming his hand on the desk, making the coffee cups and the stacks of paper shudder in recoil. "And you decided to leave me here waiting because you thought it would be amusing to make me angry?" The words tumble without restraint and he can feel the anger surging, blood rising and crawling into his skin fueling itself when gold eyes are free of any malice, free to express themselves freely and he _hates_ how petty he can be when he doesn't try to be. "With two cups of that bitter concoction you know I hate on your desk? Your argument isn't very sound, idiot."

Sinbad takes on the disposition of dealing with a wild animal—because Judal is, in a sense that there's nothing Sinbad can do when Judal gets a little above himself and he knows of these emotional outbreaks with the fights they've had in the past, something that concerns him long after Judal disappears for the time being. He knows from what Judal grudgingly admits that the rumors of the women who claim to sleep with him tend to travel far and Judal is possessive by nature, something that isn't so bad as long as his anger can be kept in check. In lieu of their usual rivalry is a relationship that he has been trying, maybe for too long to count the years, to attain and sustain. Judal is picky, he says, but Sinbad can see the frustration that is tireless and insistent on the minor details the Magi doesn't know how to deal with.

In other words, insecurity. "I wasn't waiting for anyone else, Judal. And those cups of coffee are for me, because the kitchens had made too much." He hasn't thrown the coffee cups at Sinbad's head for a start, but by the look in his eyes and the tightness of his body language he looks more than ready to break something and disappear for a while. Perhaps to Judal this argument sounds stupid and he may or may not come to regret it, Sinbad can tell in the Magi's eyes when his expressions change and he doesn't find it stupid when it's not the coffee Judal is angry about. But he doesn't voice his thoughts, knowing that the Magi won't care to hear them. "I went back before you arrived to get you this," he motions to the hot cup, grabbing it carefully with the heat burns on his fingers starting to protest.

Red eyes roll, bracelets clinking together softly as Judal grabs the hot cup from his hands and stifles a yelp, realizing just how hot it is before he cools it with a growl, ice coming to soothe his fingertips and lower the temperature. From what he can see it's brown just like the disgusting coffee in the cups, though this one is different. It smells sweeter, with a hint of cinnamon to cut through the sweetness, and the liquid seems to be unusually thick in comparison to the water texture of coffee. Glancing back up at Sinbad, he mutes the look of distaste that curls his lip into a sneer and chooses to frown instead, still feeling the bubble of annoyance sticking in his throat and swallowing down to his chest where it lingers.

"What is this?" Judal sniffs it again, not to be fooled by the smell when it's sweet, much sweeter than coffee and the aroma is of something unfamiliar. "It doesn't look like coffee or anything else you drink." From what Sinbad can see he tries not to smile, coming closer to the appeased Magi and around the side of his desk. With a hint of a devious smirk Sinbad plucks the cup from Judal's fingers, taking a swallow of the brown liquid and immediately tasting its sweetness while the Magi protests, grabbing his robes and demanding to know what in his idiot mind is he thinking. All before Sinbad quietens his protests, more to not deal with another needless tantrum than to alert his guards who are all conveniently stationed away from his office and room for tonight. Just long enough and at times where no one will notice the king's extended absences throughout the palace.

Lips press against Judal's, traces of the sweet sugar mixed with the main ingredient of the drink, cocoa, he remembers its name as, while the Magi hisses and tries to twist away but Sinbad's superior strength keeps him in place. As his lips move Judal starts to cooperate, the moment he isn't clenching his teeth Sinbad licks at his lips and deepens the kiss further with his tongue to tangle with Judal's in a slower kiss close enough to an apology and the only thing Judal's going to get. From the sudden loosening of fingers in his robe to the harder grip and more insistent tongue on his, Sinbad can imagine that Judal is much more partial to this drink as he licks and greedily pulls at Sinbad's robes, ignoring the hand that starts to creep into his hair and fingers that move to the nape of his neck, careful of his braid.

A few moments pass, Judal getting a taste of what the mystery liquid is before Sinbad pulls away, his bottom lip almost succumbing to Judal's teeth and knowing he likes to nip, it's best that he spares himself. "It's hot sweetened cocoa in milk, I thought you'd like it." One of the recipes from a timid cook, saying he knew it from far back home in a place that doesn't exist and Sinbad can understand the sentiment, promising to try it and even though it's a bit sweet for his tastes, he's positive that Judal will like it (mentioning Judal as someone close to him, when the Magi is in more ways than one) and by the close to immediate grab and swallow of the brown liquid, it appears he's right.

"Good?" Sinbad's hand moves from the nape of Judal's neck—dangerously sensitive and if touched at the wrong time he risks losing a limb or two—down onto his shoulders, rubbing his thumb into the knots that form far too easily for someone supposedly carefree.

Judal huffs, murmuring, "fine," while taking another heavy swallow and it's clear by the way he licks his lips it's more than fine. Sinbad chuckles to himself, grabbing a cup of coffee still alive and a survivor of one of Judal's many moods, toasting quietly to himself with a hidden smile as Judal downs the cup without second thought and forgetting to realize that the bottom of the cup is much hotter than the surface. Which results in an instant reaction of a hiss, dropping the cup and the fabric of his leg dress where he grabs it, placing it on the desk a little more roughly than Sinbad would recommend but the burn of his mouth sounds fitting for the impatience of the Magi.

Silence starts to set in as Judal soothes his tongue, irritation likened by Sinbad to a wet cat after rolling in sand. It's an amusing sight but teasing Judal is a dangerous hobby, one where Sinbad demonstrates that he can "live a little" after quoting the Magi's words during a rant of how boring Sinbad is and the usual complaints. Though when Judal's tongue apparently doesn't hurt as bad, he takes Sinbad's robes and pulls himself up, switching their positions while his lips slide and lock with the king's much more eager and tasting of sweets and cocoa compared to the bitter aftertaste that Sinbad likes of the coffee set back on his desk, forgotten for as long as Judal has the intentions of stealing his mouth in rough kisses. Using a bit of teeth is common, not less painful however as Judal always tries to tease with short nips, demanding more as he backs Sinbad into his chair and follows him to seat himself in Sinbad's lap.

Sinbad takes the upper hand, kisses turning softer and longer when he pulls Judal close and his hands start to wander, relishing in the bare heat of exposed flesh from Judal's revealing outfit. And even though his lips are bitter Judal has been waiting far too long to get away from Kou's idiots and the ever-unamusing king's candidates who just don't care to entertain him when they all have other things that don't involve him they'd rather do. A shame, really, but not so bad when Sinbad's kisses are better than boredom and they mean that all of Sinbad's attention is on him, not on his stupid paperwork or whatever else filters through his unimaginative mind. He can claim in other times that he finds himself caught up with images of Judal all he wants but in times like this where Judal can feel it it's the only way he'll believe what the king says.

"Were you eager to see me tonight?" Sinbad murmurs as he trails up Judal's jawline, kisses turning to nips and lingering when he reaches the shell of Judal's ear, nipping and licking while Judal starts to squirm in his lap when ears are one of the more sensitive parts Sinbad makes a happy discovery of. Judal growls faintly, head tipping back to expose the pale flesh of his covered throat and turning his head to try and discourage Sinbad away from his ear, feeling his face start to flush and even more so as a hand comes to the back of his head and stills him. Teeth graze on the shell of his ear, tongue moving closer to his inner ear and he squirms and struggles even more, a growl on his lips nothing to deter Sinbad from getting a whine from the Magi.

"E-Enough," Judal groans, feeling his ear start to throb under the ministrations of Sinbad's teeth and pushes at Sinbad's chest. "Don't be so full of yourself, stupid king." Sinbad pauses, biting a little harder to make Judal gasp and bite his lip to stifle the noise before Sinbad leaves his abused ear alone to make his way down and over the choker on Judal's throat. Attacking the flesh of his collarbone without mercy, he doesn't spare consideration for the bruising marks Judal can't always cover up. Maybe the king sees it as a mark of possession, something to be prideful about when Judal notices it only later and by then people have seen the mark, happening several times before Judal starts to squirm when the inevitable comes. But he isn't complaining, going by the lack of sound save for the hiss that settles into a moan as Sinbad licks a bite, sucking at the skin as his fingers move down the Magi's back.

Judal's fingers grab at Sinbad's hair, pulling at the ponytail and burying his fingers into the king's scalp without caring for the pain of having hair tugged, more focused on trying not to make too much noise because the idiot may be useless when he talks, but sometimes his mouth is used for much better things. And sometimes he's just too good, which Judal will never happen to admit in favor of not stroking the idiot's ego any more. "I'm only giving what you want, Judal," Sinbad detaches from Judal's throat, admiring the reddened skin with a purpling hue starting to form. But when Judal's hands tighten in his hair, pulling him up, the king doesn't look to be expecting what Judal says next.

"And if I want more than this, what will you do?" No attempts for a kiss, the sweet hot drink already fading away from his tongue and Judal decides that having more wouldn't be such a bad idea, though the main idea still hasn't come from his tongue. As loosened as it is from the gestures of affection from the idiot, the same idiot who keeps putting up with—Judal's throat constricts a little more, words tumbling through his thoughts thinking of questioning what he wants to say, just a small request that could be more and he doesn't ever like to make decisions like this. Indecisive and picky as always when it comes to affairs with the king and perhaps he doesn't want them to be just affairs but his throat closes and chokes on the words he can only shake his head at himself. Odds are the idiot king will think something's up as he does now, watching Judal curiously with golden eyes and it doesn't help that the twinge of _something_ like anger or jealousy or frustration maybe a mix of all of them shoots through his veins.

"What is it, then?" Sinbad and his stupid charm, it doesn't affect Judal like it does to any of those whores that hang off of him any time he has to make an appearance or decides to mess with Judal. And it doesn't help that he presses a kiss, soft and sweet and everything he's not to the corner of Judal's mouth, teasing just above lips and then another one moves to his cheek, a hand bracing the Magi closer against his will. "Tell me, and I'll give it to you." It's so damn frustrating, because the stupid king doesn't know anything and he wouldn't care in the first place—this is so stupid, the thought of it and words dying in his throat just like every other time he's wanted to say them and they're not coming out, something completely unlike him when he's the first to speak his mind without a care.

The idiot doesn't understand a thing. Nothing on how Judal is supposed to say it, maybe even Sinbad thinks it—stupid, stupid, stupid—and there is no right way on how to do much and it's just some stupid words, which he shouldn't be getting this worked up over and the humiliation is his only concern (since when has it been around this idiot?) of getting too involved in this sort of whatever it is relationship Sinbad likes to title it as. Stupid sappy idiot.

"I want more," the words tumble free and the moment—he better _not—_ they do Sinbad pauses, the stupid expression seemingly frozen on his face and Judal is happy to keep it like that but then the idiot thinks over it and it's too late now to turn back. No, this isn't how it's supposed to happen and when his cheeks burn he knows they shouldn't be so they don't and Judal wants to forget this ever happening because the king's eyes widen as they stare at him and just a little too much for his liking for today. Going to bed with the king doesn't sound like fun anymore and now with this embarrassment spilled and laid bare perhaps he can freeze the idiot and make his leave. But he stumbles, words escaping his grasp and has all urges to look away from the slow-spreading smile on the idiot's face. "Of that brown stuff. Not your coffee."

The idiot doesn't ever stop smiling like a complete fool. Really, he should just get the hint and stop looking at Judal like he's one of those whores because he's not and why the hell does he have to be this stupid. Maybe he should just find someone else, someone better to train who isn't an idiot and doesn't hold onto him tighter and try to catch his gaze. The Magi has had more than enough of this, starting to squirm when the king looks predatory for a minute and he's far beyond being done with this. With the humiliation still resounding in his head he doubts it'll get any better than this—better to cut his losses now while he can still redeem himself and his dignity the king seems so intent on taking. Which is impossible, but it still gives the idiot ideas.

"You want more?" Somehow Judal has the nagging feeling Sinbad isn't talking about the sweet drink, which would be a much better alternative to the lips that aren't on his like they should be and silent for once. "Was the last one not sweet enough for you, or just not enough to satisfy?" A knee shifts beneath Judal, sliding the Magi closer and the look on Sinbad's face is supposed to be innocent or whatever dignified smirk Sinbad wears when his voice sounds far too cunning. It grates Judal's nerves, already uncomfortable and frustrated with the fact that his hands that have withdrawn from Sinbad's hair have been caught by Sinbad's in an unexpected twist of the tables turning. And this is what Kouen warned him about—damn him anyway.

"Both, idiot," Judal hisses, struggle being worthless at this point and his wrists switch to one strong hand, cursing his lack of physical strength when the idiot can so easily pull him close, holding him as he pleases. Soon enough Judal will find himself fashioned as a worthless puppet, pulled by the moron—it's not going to happen. He can try all he wants, but Sinbad will be _his_ , not the other way around. "At least try not flirting with me like one of your whores, unless you want me to believe you're just reciting lines to me." That gets Sinbad's attention, smirk twitching into a frown but Judal can already feel the heat beneath the king's robes, along with something else that decides to make an appearance the more Judal squirms to get away. The intensity of his gaze, however, decides that perhaps the king may be useful for more than acting like an idiot.

"Is that so?" Sinbad's lips are far too close to his ear for Judal's liking, his free hand roaming to touch where it pleases so long as it elicits a hiss from the Magi. "I'll see what I can do, but you have to stick around long enough to see what I can give." Cheesy, stupid lines that shouldn't have much of an effect and perhaps it's the trail of lips down his jaw, the hand at the small of his back keeping them as close as possible and two forgotten coffee cups the idiot doesn't need so long as Judal is around. Another kiss comes shortly, one on Judal's bottom lip and Judal can feel his eyes closing on their own accord, a hand tightening around his wrists as Sinbad lures him down with another kiss, the hand on Judal's back steadying him while fingers start to draw patterns into the bare skin.

Sinbad tastes like the bitter reserves of coffee, only better when Judal finds the corners of his mouth still have lingering tastes of sweets and cocoa and so long as the king will actually give him what he wants it's not so bad. But the frustration still burns on his face when the idiot won't wipe the stupid smirk off his face, not as he deepens the kiss and it's still too soft, too sweet, and too slow for Judal's tastes before he realizes that the king is actively trying to seduce him, not normally done when their relations come to visits in his office over boring paperwork and pretending that the casual encounters have been only casual—Judal will still argue that they _are,_ and it's the idiot who wants something different.

Two cups of coffee find themselves ignored as Judal pouts, eyes narrowing and Sinbad finds it expected of the Magi.

"I hate you," Judal grumbles when Sinbad pulls away, licking at the Magi's lip for a trail of saliva and brushing a wet kiss against him. He doesn't like the feel of this—being held, warm and soft things that don't compute for the jagged, rough kisses and nonchalance of just meeting up for convenience. That, and the fact that the king actually brought him something he would like out of sheer dumb luck and maybe he's not so hopeless—no, it's too early to even conclude such a thing. Even if Judal finds his head on the idiot's shoulder and heat burning from his ears to his throat and into his chest, he won't say a thing that the idiot will twist into what he wants to hear.

Sinbad laughs, the sound grating Judal's ears more than usual and he doesn't want to hear it—no stupid excuses, nothing. Just shut _up._

But arms tighten around him and he doesn't know that Sinbad doesn't need words to convey what he means.

No matter how stupid they are.

* * *

 _Random idea from yesterday evening, now finally finished. Sigh, why did I have to fall in love with these two._

 _Thank you for reading._


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